


Supplication

by admiralty



Series: Culmination [4]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s09e19-20 The Truth, F/M, Post-Episode: s09e19-20 The Truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 00:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralty/pseuds/admiralty
Summary: In which we get a little insight into Mulder's sex-deprived brain. Set after the events of S9 ep 19/20 "The Truth." Part of Culmination (Extras)





	Supplication

**_SUPPLICATION_ **

 

**MULDER**

**(The Truth)**

 

 

 

_Maybe there’s hope._

There are no sounds other than the rain against the panes of glass keeping them hidden and safe from the world, here in this motel, in their own tiny corner of existence.

They lay here together, their faces close, as she nuzzles his with her nose. His mind is racing. He thinks of alien colonization. He thinks of their son. He thinks of the goddamn cancer man. He thinks of black helicopters, and death sentences, and the painful, heavy truth that she's given up everything she knew before this to be here with him, now. So many thoughts cloud his mind. He can sense her contentment, and for a brief moment he considers drifting off right here, holding her. But after a few minutes of silence her hands go from gentle to a firm grip on his shirt and she pulls hard, bringing them closer together.

“Mulder.”

He notices the shift in her demeanor. Her other hand goes behind his head, her nails digging into his scalp, suddenly desperate, and she breathes into his ear.

"Mulder, please..."

It’s such a simple request. He wonders why she thinks she needs to ask, she never has before. He wants to respond but he doesn’t. He can’t help himself. He liked it. He wants to hear her say it again, and he doesn’t have to wait long.

“ _Please_ …”

He suddenly realizes she’s not asking him. She’s _pleading_ with him. She’s been waiting for this for hours, for days, hell, for _months_. She’s been waiting so patiently all day for him to satisfy his own needs, the needs of his obsession. He’s been so busy with his own shit that he hasn’t been thinking about her needs and now here she is, pleading with him to pay attention to her.

It isn’t that he hasn’t wanted this, even needed it as much as she has. Thoughts of her, of this, had taken up residence in his mind since the last day he saw her all those months ago, how could they not have? But he’d gone for so long without. Most of his adult life he’d gone without. Being lonely in this way had been his status quo for so long, he wasn’t used to having someone else to attend to.

His ability to focus on whatever task was at hand had always been, to him at least, an admirable trait; the tunnel vision that he engaged whenever chasing down some truth or answer could be applicable in any scenario. It had been helpful all those years before they admitted what they really meant to each other in moments she stood too close, or touched his elbow, and all sense and logic should have been overwhelmed by his baser instincts. He’d always prided himself on being able to compartmentalize his sexual needs more than most men his age. His work had been paramount. Part of him knows it still is. But Scully has crept in, somehow.

Things between them are different now. He hasn’t forgotten, he’s just been distracted. Falling victim to distraction isn’t going to cut it anymore, and she’s reminding him of that. Beyond all rhyme or reason, this tunnel vision has gotten in the way of his most primal urge.

Now that he’s aware of her need, his own rises up inside him like a tidal wave.

He rolls over her and holds her wrists down above her head, kissing her so hard her head sinks back down into the mattress. The thoughts running through his mind remind him how relatively few times they've done this, even though this particular aspect of their relationship started nearly two years ago. It's unfathomable, it's unfair. He should know her body much better than he does already. But he knows she likes this, she likes him to restrain her. She loves it when he takes control.

She can’t do anything with her hands so she wraps her legs around him and arches her hips, her desire so painfully obvious it makes his own increase a hundredfold. His kisses become sloppy and urgent.

“Now, Mulder… _please,_ ” she says again.

His surprise at her words is only outweighed by his arousal, getting thicker and stronger by the second. He doesn’t want this to be over quickly, but goddamn if her pleas aren’t going to send him right over the edge.

“Shit,” he says.

“What?”

“I just…” he takes a deep breath. “I need… I need to slow down.”

“No, please, don’t.” Her eyes close and her legs grip his hips like a vise. “Please don’t stop.”

He feels his eyes rolling back into his head. Something is happening to him he can’t explain. She’s never begged him before and it’s almost as if the “P” word has become his own personal aphrodisiac.

He releases her wrists and her hands immediately go to unbutton his jeans. It’s perfectly clear what she wants. He goes with it, wriggling out of them as fast as possible because for the first time in a couple decades he’s worried he might have an embarrassing re-enactment of his adolescent years.

“Quick is okay. I won’t judge, Mulder. It’s been a long time.”

She reaches for him and takes him into her hand. He is certain he’s never been so painfully hard in his entire life. Her touch is unbelievably tempered considering how ready and willing she seems to be. With her other hand she unties the front of her robe, opening it to reveal her naked body underneath.

As he hovers over this vision, her hand around his dick, he truly believes for the first time that God must exist, he has to, for how else has he not completely come undone by now? It has to be a fucking miracle.

Pascal’s Wager be damned, in this moment he’d be willing to stake his very life on it.

Luckily she wastes no time and he can’t believe he’s gone so long without her surrounding him like this. Enveloped by her warmth, he uses one arm as leverage as he wraps his other around her back, lifting her towards him. The extra energy this requires helps him delay the inevitable.

She wraps her arms around his neck and lets him drive, and they move in tandem, her sounds of pleasure sending him right back into panic mode.

“Scully... you and I have seen our fair share of… unexplainable phenomena... but there truly is no earthly reason I should still be going right now,” he pants.

“Maybe the universe is finally throwing us a bone,” she smiles. Her eyes don’t leave his own.

“Tell me that pun was intended.”

“Stop talking, Mulder.”

He smiles and leans down, allowing her to shut him the fuck up with her mouth. She usually loves hearing his voice, just like he loves hearing hers. But he interprets this as a kindness on her part; it hasn’t been unheard of for their voices alone to send the other careening over the edge. Even before their relationship had become sexual, her voice had certainly been categorized into that part of his brain whether he wanted it there or not.

His arm tiring, he sits back, pulling her into his lap. She takes the opportunity to relieve him of his shirt, already damp with sweat. He returns the favor, helping her remove her robe and both get tossed to the floor. As she pulls his lips to hers again he moves his hands to her back, pressing her body into his, wanting to feel every square inch of his skin covered by her own. Months. _Months,_ it’s been. He knew he needed this but until now he hadn't realized how much. 

He lays back down, flipping onto his back, letting her take over. He can tell he’s about to break apart but he wants her to get as close as possible before he does. _Even miracles don’t last forever._

Incredibly, she starts to melt around him first. The sight of it is enough to bring him along with her, and after a few seconds she grabs his shoulders and collapses onto his chest. He holds her close as their breathing slows. He thinks his heart might actually burst through his chest from its pounding.

“Jesus, Mulder,” she whispers, exhausted. “Your heartbeat is louder than the rain.”

He buries his face in her hair, her gorgeous long hair that makes him think of the day he met her. He knows the afterglow is her favorite part so he holds her, just breathing her in, and waits for his heart to quiet down a bit. Eventually she shifts her body a bit until she’s nestled into his neck. She is the first to speak.

“Thank you for that.”

“Sorry you had to ask.”

“It’s okay. I know it’s been a long day.”

“If it’s any consolation, it was hot as hell.”

“I’m glad.” She drapes her arm over his chest.

“I’m still getting used to this whole… boyfriend type… thing. You know. With you.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you my _boyfriend,_ Mulder?”

“It sounds like crap when you say it.”

She smiles. “Well, we _are_ wanted fugitives. Let’s go with partner-in-crime.”

“My ride or die.”

“Literally.”

He laughs, softly at first, but it builds steadily until they are both laughing loudly, another release they both needed so badly.

He cups her cheek with his hand and kisses her forehead, and they lie side by side, staring at the ceiling, listening to the rain, thinking about the end of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a larger work: [Culmination](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748734/chapters/34100159)


End file.
